


Melting Ice

by Hexiva



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, M/M, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:50:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8196631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva
Summary: Every few months, Erik turns up on Charles' doorstep asking for help. Charles can never turn him down.





	

When Charles looks up from his book, he sees a tall, caped figure standing on his balcony, looking in through the glass doors. He smiles, marks his place, and sets aside the book, before wheeling over to open the doors. “Erik. It’s been awhile. I hope everything has been well?”

Erik smiled ironically. “I’m afraid, old friend, that if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t tell you. And you?”

“Life has been quite good lately.” Not least because Erik hadn’t been making life harder for the X-Men and mutants in general. “We’ve had ten new students in the last month. A record high. Please, come in, sit down.” He wheels back away from the doors, over to the small couch in one corner of his bedroom. He lifts himself onto it, gesturing to Erik to sit with him.

Erik does so. “You know why I’m here, don’t you?”

It’s the same reason he always comes - every few months or so, turning up on Charles’ doorstep or his balcony, offering a truce. “I do,” Charles says. “Erik . . .” Erik looks down his nose at Charles, as if daring him to judge him. “Erik, are you sure this is what you want?” Charles asks instead.

Erik’s intense gaze flickers away from Charles. “Don’t ask me that, Charles.”

“I won’t do this without your consent,” Charles warns him. 

“Of course I want this,” Erik says. “I . . . Charles, you can’t imagine what it’s like.”

“I can,” Charles says softly. “I can feel it in your mind.” He reaches out to Erik both mentally and physically, putting a comforting hand on Erik’s shoulder.

“It’s better this way,” Erik says. He seems to be talking to himself more than Charles. “You were the one who taught me that anger wouldn’t get me what I wanted.” He shuts his eyes. “Everything was so . . . _sharp_ back then. So bright. Everything burned me. These days, nothing touches me. Nothing hurts me. My mind is clear.”

“Shutting away your emotions isn’t the answer, Erik.”

“It’s worked so far.”

Charles gave him a look. “If that’s true, why are you here?”

“You know why.”

“You want me to make you feel something. Because you can’t remember how to do it for yourself anymore.”

Erik looks away. “Yes.”

“You could learn it again, you know. Learn to let down those barriers on your own. To live with your emotions.”

“I don’t want that,” Erik says sharply. “This is better. I am better now.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Will you help me or not, Charles?”

Charles sighs. “Very well, old friend.” He reaches into Erik’s mind. It’s all sharp edges and smooth, cold surfaces, no purchase and no give. Charles fears that everytime he comes back to this mind, it’s become a little colder. 

It used to be easy to peek beneath the sociopathic calm and find the part of Erik that still cares. These days, it’s more like Charles is bringing his own kindness and caring into Erik’s heart, like breathing warmth into cold metal. And it’s getting harder and harder.

Erik’s breath catches as Charles brings his emotions to life, and then he starts crying. It’s a helpless, pained sound. Charles thinks that Erik still cries like a frightened child, like the part of his mind used to expressing pain never grew up. 

Charles reaches out and wraps an arm around Erik’s shoulders. Erik’s hands find their way to Charles’ chest, clinging to fistfuls of Charles’ suit. He’s leaning awkwardly against Charles now, half in and half out of his lap, as Charles rests his chin on Erik’s head. 

“I will never understand,” Erik says, after awhile, his voice choked, “Why you continue to allow me this.”

“Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” Charles asks. “If I needed you?”

“I - I don’t know,” Erik says, his voice catching. “Charles, I - ” He cuts himself off, and buries his face in Charles’ chest. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice muffled. It could be an apology for any of the thousands of terrible things Erik’s done, but Charles thinks it’s more general than that; Erik is apologizing for being who and what he is, for being so cold and empty that he needs this.

“It’s all right,” Charles says, rubbing his friend’s shoulders. “It’s all right, you’re okay.”

Erik gives a miserable little laugh. “You know I’m not,” he says.

Charles swallows and, after a minute, he says, “I know.”


End file.
